Teithio
by Yukimura Hina
Summary: My talents lie not in summaries. Sam and Dean meet Torchwood. Tags to SPN se6ep4 and pre-CoE Torchwood. Don't take it too seriously, but please read and review.


A/N: Written for a friend in the Twitterverse, this shoddy crossover is tagged to the Supernatural episode "Weekend at Bobby's", but takes MANY liberties with the timelines in Torchwood. Just go with it. Please review and try to be kind with your critiques.

Vomit, it seems, is one of the harder smells to get out of a jacket sleeve, Dean discovered. He walked- no, more like tottered- off the plane, Sam's massive hand gripping his shoulder and leading him in a more or less straight line down the gently sloping and dimly lit gate walkway. They took their first steps into the brightly lit, air-conditioned space of the terminal, bustling with people in various stages of anticipation waiting to board the next flight and Dean breathed deeply, trying to rid himself of the tension he'd built up over the nine-hour plane ride. Immediately, Dean was aware of how many people were looking at him concernedly and how thick many of their accents were.

Crowley's real name was Fergus MacLeod, and thanks to Rufus and his often _shady_ connections, Dean and Sam were set on the first flight out, expenses paid, with a check-in time at a little inn right outside Canisbay, Scotland, where Crowley had lived when he was alive. Why they had to land in Wales was beyond Sam, (he could have gotten a much closer drop off point) but Rufus had insisted, waving it off as a favor the boys could owe him later. Sam and Dean hadn't felt like arguing the point when Bobby's soul was on the line and hurried to dutifully get on the flight.

Standing out of the way of the flow of people in the terminal, Sam double checked his pockets for their identification (both real and fake, just in case), and took out his phone to check for a signal. Nothing. They'd just have to wait to check in with Bobby until after they got up to Scotland. There was a tasteful white sign proclaiming 'Croeso i Maes Awyr Rhyngwladol Caerdydd' just above their heads. Dean, who had stopped looking like he was going to toss his cookies and was more or less back to his normal self, pointed up at the sign and very astutely pronounced it "not English". Sam just rolled his eyes.

"But Sam, there aren't even any _vowels,_" he persisted, trying without success to pronounce the Welsh phrases around him.

"It says 'Welcome to the Cardiff International Airport' ", Sam huffed out, squinting his eyes over the throng for the baggage claim area and spotting it, took off at a brisk pace, weaving his long legs though the crowd. Dean moved to follow him. They picked up their two duffel bags each off the luggage carousel and headed outside to find a car rental office.

They had had some trouble getting the usual arsenal past airport security, not without looking like a pair of freelance mercenaries, so all they carried with them were enough clothes for about four days, two large canisters of salt, several matchboxes, their EMF reader, and an emergency box of first-aid supplies. Sam managed to get a small silver knife on the plane by keeping it in an x-ray proof sleeve of his duffel bag.

Once they had rented a small Opel Corsa under the name James Hetfield using one of Dean's many credit cards, they set off for Scotland. Dean complained the whole way about the car being backwards and driving on the 'wrong' side of the road and 'why couldn't we have ferried my baby over with us or something, Sam?'. Driving _entirely_ too fast on the M6 and A9 and one quick rest stop, 12 hours later, they had arrived in Canisbay, their feverish intent on finding Crowley's gravesite unabated.

After Crowley vamoosed into the early morning light with his bag of bones, the Winchesters took one look at the skeevy inn Rufus had made reservations, and decided to skip it in lieu of making it back to Cardiff to secure another flight home. It was going to be a very long drive back with little leg room for Sam to stretch out. It was dark when Bobby called them on the road.

"Try some of the local grub, I hear it's.. exotic." Bobby's amused voice crackled through the phone Sam held up between them on speaker.

"Oh yeah, no definitely we are. I hear they have an Olive Garden." Dean joked back. He could almost hear Bobby's eyes roll in his head as they both hung up, Sam's elbow accidentally knocking into the horn in the process.

Back at the airport, after turning in their rental car, Dean nodded off in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs behind the check-in line. Sam stood at the ticket counter rubbing his temple and scrunching his brow in frustration as a migraine built up.

"What do you mean there aren't any flights available until tomorrow?" Sam asked in exasperation, fixing the petite girl behind the counter with the glare of a man who has been trapped in a small car for hours. She withered, then spoke softly, her Welsh accent thickening in her earnestness. "Sir, about six hours ago there were reports of what they said was a severe lightning storm over the area. As such, the official report states that all flights are delayed until we can pronounce the skies safe for our pilots." She leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, "I don't expect you to believe me, but I saw it myself. It weren't a lightning storm like I've ever seen. Looked like the sky split in _half_ over Mermaid Quay. Torchwood was called out and everything. Gave me a fright. You and your.." she looked kindly behind him at the sleeping Dean curled in on himself in the chair, "-partner would do well to find accommodations for the night." She reached under the counter and pulled out an array of travel brochures and tourist vouchers for restaurants and handed them to Sam. He thanked her and went to wake up Dean, telling him that since it was past midnight, they were going to find a small hotel to hole up in until the morning.

Dean woke up slowly and rolled, feeling his jeans wrap tighter around his body under the covers, and wiggling his socked toes to pop them. He flipped the heavy comforter to the right of him and swung his legs left to dangle off the edge of the bed. Dean stretched and yawned languidly. He figured he must have passed out once Sam had gotten them both to their room. He checked the queen bed on the other side of the nightstand for Sam's sleeping form, but saw none. Dean checked the table clock, noting that it was nearly nine a.m. which meant Sam was probably out either getting breakfast or checking on flight plans. Dean's stomach growled and he hoped for the former.

Dean was debating with himself about getting in the shower when the door opened, spilling light over the nondescript carpet that Sam always said was the color creme or ecru, one of the two, and Sam came in, four newspapers rolled under his arm and carrying two to-go boxes of food that smelled delicious. "Oh Dean, you're up. Good. I think we may have a case here," Sam said, crossing in front of the beds and placing the food on one side of the table near the window. On the other side, he spread his newspapers out and sat, waiting for Dean to join him.

"What? Sam, this is not our turf. I thought you were getting us a flight back to Bobby's." Dean replied, standing to join Sam at the table. He opened the first to-go box and was greeted with thin black noodles and a mix of minced vegetables. He looked over the box at Sam incredulously. Sam noticed and took the open box away from him. "That's mine. Yours is the Jubilee's pizza." Dean's face broke into a smile and as he dug into his breakfast pizza, Sam admitted, "I called Bobby and he said Crowley's left him alone, his soul is back, his legs still work and there's nothing for us to do immediately, so I thought we had time to investigate something the woman from the airport mentioned." He nudged one of the newspapers forward, pointing out a section and reading aloud, "Cardiff experiences massive electrical disturbance, suspected lightning storm". Dean raised his head from his food and with mouth full, mumbled "So what?"

"Well the girl I talked to said it looked more like a giant bolt tore the sky, and I've done some research since then and get this- this is not the first time it's happened. Apparently, the last time it did, it was over the same area, near Mermaid Quay and the Roald Dahl Plass. She said something called Torchwood was called out and I tried looking that up too, but there's almost no information except something about an incident in Canary Wharf that resulted in a massive body count. I don't know if this could be demonic activity or what.." Sam trailed off, squinting out the window and pursing his mouth. "I just think we should check it out, that's all."

Their hotel wasn't more than five streets from the start of the Mermaid Quay shopping district, so after their meal and showers, the brothers walked, eager to stretch their limbs and enjoy the feeling of being in an entirely new place for once.

Dean walked ahead of Sam, visibly happier than he'd been in a while. It was cool and lightly overcast from the incoming rain, but still pleasant. As they neared the shops and the piers of Cardiff Bay, Sam got out a local map and one of the travel brochures he'd gotten at the airport. Inspecting it as he walked, he looked around and, not noting anything out of the ordinary, suggested Dean go back to the Jubilee's pizza and order them something for lunch while he looked around. Dean was only too happy to oblige, leaving Sam with a "Later, geek."

Sam found his way to what looked like an abandoned storefront under the main shopping center by following a large rock wall to a lower level. As his eyes followed along the waterfront to the left of him, up in the distance he could see the fountain tower that could only be part of the Plass. Nobody was around, so he went to the door's window and tried to peek in. He could barely make out a desk and some brick wall when suddenly the door opened inward and Sam nearly lost his balance trying to back up quickly and stay upright. A man with dark, cropped hair who was impeccably dressed in a dark suit, complete with waistcoat and bright red tie, came out of the shop and pulled the door shut behind him. Sam heard the door bolt automatically. He glanced up at Sam with bright blue eyes, smiled politely, and excused himself as he walked swiftly past him, heading down the waterfront.

Sam stood, deciding whether to follow the man until he felt something warm and soggy hit his forehead. He looked up angrily at Dean, leaning over the railing at the upper level, smug grin on his face and a carton of fries in his hand. "They're no Biggerson's, but these are pretty good. I've got two slices of pizza up here waiting too. One totally lame and topping-free, one meat-lovers." "You _would _get the 'meat lovers', Dean," Sam retorted angrily, jogging up the path to meet Dean on the upper level. "Shut up. Find anything?" Dean asked, looking a little interested. Sam sighed. "I don't know. There was a guy wearing a suit that just came out of that shop, but it looks deserted, not like a business or anything. Something seems odd. Let's head over to the Plass and see if there's anything there."

They entered the plaza and stared up at the fountain tower in awe, clear water streaming in ripples down the reflective panels. Sam glanced around to see if anyone was paying any more attention than necessary to them and pulled out the EMF reader he'd stashed in his pocket that morning, aiming it at the base of the tower. Dean followed behind, doing an incredible impression of a five year old rolling its eyes. Sam circled the immense tower like a vulture a few times, eyebrows brooding and pensive.

There was a square of blocks in front of the waterfall's base forming a bit of a walkway, but there was one block missing leaving a hole that could easily fit a full grown man and didn't seem to have an end- just a dark drop, presumably into a sewer system. Dean had stepped up onto the blocks, pacing back and forth until he stopped at the hole. Dean leaned over and peered into the hole then, intrigued.

"How far down do you think this goes?"

Sam stopped his fourth inspection of the monument and frowned at Dean who was hovering a foot over the hole like he was going to try to jump down. "Dean," Sam began warningly.

Dean tested the air where the hole was with his foot, expecting to dangle his leg into empty space, and nearly fell over in surprise when he felt his foot connect with something solid, revealing a hidden stone block he couldn't see before. Behind him, Sam called out "Dean?" and leapt forward, landing on the stone block with him, looking around the two of them frantically. As soon as the two of them were standing on the previously disguised stone, it began to move, descending into the ground like a kind of elevator shaft. Dean and Sam moved closer to each other, each gripping the other's arm. It was completely dark for a few seconds, then the shaft opened into a massive underground room. The brothers could see the base of the tower, water still trickling down into a grate in the center of the room. Above them was a metal catwalk leading to a large, well lit office somewhat obscured by potted plants. As the lift came to rest at what looked like the main floor of the room, the brothers stepped off onto a platform. In front of them were rows of desks and large computer monitors. The Winchesters could see two women and a man each at a console, typing and clicking away like they didn't notice the two strange men in their secret underground lair.

Sam turned to Dean wide-eyed and nodded his head in their direction, silently suggesting they move forward to try to talk to them. Dean raised an eyebrow and then nodded his assent and the two slowly stepped up the few metal stairs to the main level. On the stone wall above a couple of couches and a coffee table littered with empty pizza boxes and half-empty coffee mugs, there was huge black lettering declaring "TORCHWOOD". Farther down, along the wall there was a large vault door and a cage surrounding the opening, but the cage door was unlocked and ajar. The brothers reached the first computer desk and stood staring at the stoic-faced Asian woman in a grey pencil skirt and purple blouse seated there who was currently looking at a series of security camera feeds, one of which was on a loop, showing Dean and Sam walking around the water tower above ground. It looked like they had been watching them for some time. The other two, a cute brunette woman in jeans and a dark shirt and leather jacket and a lithe dark-haired man wearing a lab coat over a black v-neck, didn't look up to acknowledge Sam and Dean's presence, and Sam was just about to break the awkward silence when he heard a snort come from the Asian woman in front of them. She clapped hands to her face and burst into giggles.

"I'm _so _sorry. I couldn't hold it any longer!" she said between laughs. The other man and woman spun around in their chairs, groaning at the apparent failure of a plan to unnerve the strangers.

"That was much quicker than when you lot did it to _me!" _said the other girl in a thick Welsh accent, grinning widely. Sam could see she had a bit of a gap between her front teeth, and a few freckles over her nose too.

Dean and Sam looked at each other in surprise and confusion, then turned back to face the group who were still trying to regain composure. Dean cleared his throat and waved his arm back towards the stone elevator that had brought them there and said, "You guys have... an invisible magic elevator," he finished lamely, not knowing just what to say. The man in the lab coat sat back in his chair and crossed his arms countering sarcastically, "Yeah. That'd be the temporal perception filter working. You Americans just have _brilliant_ observational powers, eh?"

"Oh hush, Owen," the Welsh girl scolded him as she walked up to the very confused brothers, taking each of their hands and shaking enthusiastically. "Sam and Dean Winchester. You must have _loads_ of questions. My name is Gwen Cooper. This is Toshiko Sato," she motioned to the Asian girl who gave a little wave, "and that lump back there's Dr. Owen Harper."

Dean and Sam were shell-shocked but still managed to stay calm. Simultaneously they spoke.

"What is Torchwood?"

"How do you know who we are?"

"We are Torchwood," came a new voice coming down from the staircase that was behind the Winchesters. "outside the government, beyond the police. Fighting for the future on behalf of the human race. The 21st Century is when everything changes - and Torchwood is ready."

The brothers turned and saw a man that looked an anachronism and simultaneously entirely at home. He was very handsome, dressed in a style that wouldn't be out of place during World War II. He wore a crisp blue shirt, red suspenders, dark grey trousers, boots and a military coat- from what Sam could deduce, it looked like a vintage RAF officers' greatcoat. Peeking from his coat sleeve was a leather wristband that looked like it housed gadgetry of sorts. Sam really wished he could get a closer look at it. His smile was dazzling and reached his green-grey eyes, crinkling the corners a little.

"We know who you two are because we know who _everyone _is." He stood in front of the brothers who stood side-by-side abreast of Toshiko's computer station. "Sam and Dean Winchester of Lawrence, Kansas. You boys look _much _better than your mug shots and police sketches. I'm Captain Jack Harkness," he introduced himself with a wide grin. "Harkness, huh? Practice that speech much?" Dean asked challengingly, looking the Captain up and down, frowning a bit at the way Captain Harkness seemed to be doing the same thing, but much more lasciviously. "You don't sound British like they do," he tossed his head slightly to indicate the semicircle of people they'd already met. "You sound American, but I'm not sure where you're from."

Jack chuckled, amused. "Every night in the mirror. And no, you wouldn't. My home is a long way from here." Jack walked around the boys and went to stand in front of the coffee table across from the line of computers. Sam and Dean turned around, completing the circle. Sam looked around the circle of faces, eventually coming back to look at Jack who was standing expectantly.

"That still doesn't explain really what you DO or how you knew we were even coming here," Sam protested.

"Sam, I've been around. I know that when your names showed up in the Cardiff airport that after you did whatever you had to do, you'd hear about the 'demonic signs' and try to find us. In fact, I ensured it. I called in a favor with the girl you met in the airport, Sam. I've been tracking your work in the States and I thought it was high time you knew about us."

Toshiko sat up taller in her chair and addressed Jack. "What is it exactly these men do, Jack?"

"They're Hunters. They track and kill supernatural creatures. They're quite good at it, actually. Thing is, they tend to disappear from time to time. You two are _really _off the grid, huh?" Jack smiled at Sam. "Torchwood isn't _exactly _the same branch of work, but we do have similar interests- saving the world while everyone else sleeps peacefully at night."

Dean snorted, incredulous. "So you're saying the hunter network's international? I mean, it makes sense. What kind of world would it be if all this crap **only** happened in America?"

Jack crossed his arms. "I told you," he sighed, "we deal with _much _different events than you do, but there's enough overlap that having a liaison in the States wouldn't hurt, for either of us."

Dean and Sam took a few moments to absorb Captain Jack's words. They looked at each other, both silently agreeing that these people definitely had at the very least, the _technology_ that would come in handy during cases. Sam nodded determinedly and stepped forward, offering Jack his hand to shake. "All right, we'll play ball. Show us around your base?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Jack sent Owen out to get dinner for the group while he and Gwen took Sam and Dean on a lengthy tour of the Hub, as Jack called it. After a few hours of Jack and Gwen explaining the Rift and all the flotsam and jetsam that came out of it, Sam handling every alien artifact with profound reverence and Dean making good use practicing- (showing off for Gwen, Sam called it) his marksmanship in the firing range, the four headed back upstairs to find Toshiko standing with a man in a crisp white shirt with sleeves rolled to the elbows, black slacks and a waistcoat pulling things out of paper sacks and stacking them on the coffee table. Toshiko looked up at the approaching party first, greeting cheerfully. "You're back! How was the look-around?"

Without turning around, the man spoke, his voice gentle and tinged with a Welsh accent as well. "Jack, we've run out of dark chocolate for Myfanwy, and I've bought extra copper cable and things to repair the navigation in the trucks." He turned to face Jack and smiled, noticing Sam and Dean walking close behind. "Hello, again," he greeted warmly.

"Ianto Jones, surely you haven't been shirking your responsibilities to cruise for American tourists?" Jack teased, eyebrow raised flirtatiously. Ianto had the good grace to blush, his smile a mere upturning of the corners of his mouth.

"No, of course not Jack," he replied, eyes snapping back up to Sam's who could feel his face warming under the man's gaze. "I just remember him from this morning at the waterfront entrance." He crossed the floor to Sam and Dean, offering his hand for Sam to shake first. "I didn't catch your name," he prompted with a forwardness that caused Dean to glance up in amusement at the (pleasantly) surprised look on his brother's face. Dean wasn't shy about his sexual encounters with men in the past, but if the look on his face was anything to go by, apparently Sammy wasn't as straight as he claimed to be. _First sign of a pick-up line and I'm out of here_ Dean thought, rolling his eyes. Sam stammered a bit, obviously flustered. Dean stepped in front of him and clasped Ianto's hand with a friendly grip.

"I'm Dean Winchester, the silent moose is Sam. Ianto, right? So you work for Torchwood too? What do you do?"

Ianto shook Dean's hand and looking straight at Sam said, more than a bit suggestively, "Oh, I do a little bit of everything."

"That's it," Dean declared, a little too loudly. He broke Ianto's shake and strode forward to plop on the couch across from where Toshiko still stood.

"Captain, do you have anything to drink? I'm not getting through this without alcohol."

Ianto turned his head to Dean and chuckled.

"I could Irish up some of the coffee I'm brewing," he offered. "Won't take but a minute."

Gwen giggled and moved to join Dean on the couch.

Owen came back around five in the afternoon with more than ten boxes of assorted Chinese food, including fortune cookies, and the entire Hub dug in around the little coffee table, mixing sauces and sharing boxes. For an hour, everyone was at ease and in high spirits, swapping war stories- Dean and Sam about wendigos and demons (but avoiding any huge personal stories involving their dad or Hell) and the Torchwood gang told stories about all the alien artifacts they had collected, comparing the witches the brothers fought to the Carrionites Jack and some Doctor had come across, using the Life Knife to briefly resurrect people, and Jack spoke vaguely of different planets he had apparently fucked a _considerable_ amount of varying life-forms on. Suddenly, there was an inordinate level of klaxon and everyone leapt up in a flurry of activity, leaving Sam and Dean sitting, excited and confused as to what the matter was. Tosh, as the boys had started to call her, was at one of her monitors, tracking some bleeping thing across a SAT NAVmap of Cardiff. Jack stopped in his tracks as he picked up his coat that was draped across the back of his chair, slinging it on as smoothly as if the fabric were just an extension of his body. He turned and snapped a finger at Dean.

"You two don't have any weapons with you, do you?"

Dean frowned.

"Well, that depends on what you're hunting. We've got enough to work with for a couple different monsters. What is it?"

Jack shook his head. "You two need guns. Gwen! Take them to get some firepower and meet me at the car. Owen, Ianto and Tosh will take the other car and head it off. We'll take up the rear." Gwen nodded her assent at her superior's retreating back and waved her hand for the brothers to follow her. She took them to a locker room full of a plethora of weapons and gave them each a semi-automatic, tucking her own Compact M1911in the back waistband of her pants. They ran out the vault door and to the street where Jack was waiting for them in the driver's seat of a large, black SUV that had Torchwood insignias on the side. The side door was slid open so Sam, Dean and Gwen hopped into the back and slid the door shut as Jack took off, weaving his way through traffic and onto a highway. There were monitors in the backseat of the SUV, presumably navigation systems and the like, but Dean and Sam didn't feel comfortable enough to touch them. Sam leaned forward so that his mouth was half a foot away from Jack's ear. "What are we after?" he asked eagerly.

"It's called a Nostrovite," Jack answered grimly. "Nasty things. Carnivorous alien shape-shifters with a taste for human flesh One's just come out of the Rift and has attacked and killed two people in public. _If_ it's female, and pregnant as I suspect, we've only got a short time before she's chosen a host to use as an incubator."

Gwen pulled Sam backwards into his seat so he could hear her. "One bite, and you could have baby Nostrovites livin' in your arm," she warned. Dean looked over Sam at Gwen and nodded that he too had heard.

Jack drove the car into a well lit parking lot across from a small wooded park. The party in the back jumped out as soon as he had stopped the car and the boys followed Gwen to the trunk where she opened it and pulled out the biggest gun they had ever seen. It was more like a mini cannon. Gwen passed it off to Jack with a small smile.

"Well now I feel like you're over-compensating," Dean teased the Captain, waving his own gun at the cannon-thing.

Jack grinned heartily and hefted the gun on his shoulder, and touched briefly, a pale translucent earpiece, listening intently to whoever was on the other line. "It's in the lower fourth quadrant of the park," he informed them. "The others are already there and have managed to corral it."

Jack and Gwen led the way at a sprint, Sam and Dean following just behind. They reached a small clearing in the trees and the brothers could see the Nostrovite, moving in an agitated way between the other Torchwood members, who Sam could see were fending it off with tasers. They couldn't get much closer to the Nostrovite than that, for every attempt led to the creature lashing out at them with red eyes blazing and elongated teeth and claws raking the air. The form it had taken was of a heavy woman, her blonde hair clotted on one side with blood. The Nostrovite stopped and sniffed the air, turning to greet the new party that had just arrived. She sneered, her face grotesque and stained with dried blood from her previous victims.

"You really shouldn't be here, you know?" Jack called out to the creature, almost piteously. "I know you're pregnant, but that's no reason to go around killing innocents."

"Screw this noise," Dean grunted from behind Jack and swung around him, emptying his clip at the monster.

"Dean!" Sam called out, angry at his brother for being reckless.

"Dean, be careful!" Gwen yelled as she ran right to cut off the monster's escape. The monster seemed impervious to Dean's bullets; he had emptied the whole clip and was trying quickly to reload. Sam stood at the edge of the tree-line, watching the events and calculating his next move. When the creature roared and leapt towards Gwen to bite her, Jack dropped his Unknown Gun and moved to block the attack. The next events happened so quickly in Sam's eye that it could've been a slow-mo scene in a movie. Dean lifted his gun again and took aim at the creature, firing twice. The first bullet caught the Nostrovite on the shoulder, but the second missed and hit Jack over the creature's shoulder, straight in the left side of his neck, ripping through the skin and tendons. There was a magnificent blood spray that painted the tree bark behind him red and then he was falling, bleeding out quickly. There were voices screaming for Jack in shock. Sam snapped out of it, moving forward. He picked up the cannon-gun from the ground where Jack dropped it, pushed some button to prime it, eliciting a heated whirring noise. "Gwen, MOVE!" Sam thundered, pulling the trigger. His aim was true and the Nostrovite combusted, spraying flecks of gore on those nearby.

"Jack!" both brothers yelled out in fear, rushing to him. Gwen knelt at Jack's side, wiping the Nostrovite blood from his pallid face. The wound in his neck was substantial, a chunk of flesh missing entirely and blood poured out and cooled underneath his head. Behind him, Sam could hear the rest of the crew cleaning up, removing what was left of the creature's carcass, seemingly uncaring. Sam choked up, saying over and over how sorry he was, that he wasn't fast enough. Dean sat back on his knees, silent and grim, until he turned to snap at Owen, Tosh and Ianto working behind them. "Don't you CARE?" he roared at them. Owen snickered a bit cruelly.

"He'll be fine. Captain's tougher than he looks," he replied amusedly. Dean stared back at him, incredulous. "But he's DEAD." He shook his head as if to clear it, then turned back around at a noise coming from the body on the ground.

Captain Jack gasped loudly and sat up swiftly, arms behind him propping his torso up. All traces of a gunshot were gone. Sam cried out in confusion and fell back from where he was kneeling. Gwen helped the captain, then the boys in turn to their feet.

"But you.. he SHOT you!" Sam said, stupefied. Jack smiled at the looks on the brothers' faces.

"Yes he did. Got quite a lot of blood on my coat." He turned to Dean, furrowing his brow in mock-anger. "And it _hurt! Why _would you shoot someone in the neck? I didn't die quickly you know. Felt like I was drowning midair. I thought you were supposed to be the sniper in the family. _Sam_ however," Jack turned to shake Sam's hand enthusiastically, "Sam, you did very well. Thank you."

Dean looked down at this, confused and ashamed. "There's a lot going on at once..." he muttered, crossing his arms in a protective stance in front of himself.

Jack laughed loudly, his voice ringing out in the darkening evening air. "Oh, didn't I mention? I'm kind of immortal."

"So you're not _just_ a time-traveling spaceman..." Dean began, trying to sort through everything, "But you're ALSO an immortal, fixed point in time?"

The Torchwood gang had brought the boys back to the Hub and Ianto was busy placating the Winchesters with endless cups of coffee while they interrogated Jack in his office upstairs. He had answered their questions as best he could, including that he was a Time Agent and former con man from the 51st century. He had been killed and resurrected with the power of the time vortex, and ever since, he's been unable to truly die. Sam remembered grimly the day he had to watch his brother die over and over, unable to stop it and felt sorry for the Captain.

"And you just do what we do," Dean continued, his voice rising to one of admiration, "try to save the world and keep your family safe." Sam turned from looking at Dean to look at the Captain, who was smiling into his mug.

"That's basically it, yes." Jack grinned at Dean. "Ianto's made preparations for you two to head back to America tonight in a private jet of mine. The pilot will take you anywhere you want to go. Or," he leaned in and half-whispered, "you could join Ianto and I for a game of naked hide-and-seek." Both brothers flushed and Sam stammered out in a rush that it was really getting late and they haven't called Bobby yet but thanks for everything Captain, I'm sure we'll hear from you soon. Jack stood, stretching as he went and chuckling.

"I figured," he said, smiling. He clapped each of their hands as they stood up, saying, "Ianto will drive you to your hotel to get your things, then to the jet. I _will _be in touch, Winchesters. Keep fighting the good fight."

I'm sorry it's such a shitty ending. =_=; God that sounds like a fade-to-black- Lifetime movie moment if I've ever written one. Hope you laughed or thought it was cute, at least.


End file.
